Ribbon
by Angel Leviathan
Summary: As Elphaba vanishes into the Underground life of the Emerald City, Glinda's years of hell are just beginning.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Ribbon (I/V)  
**Author:** Angel Leviathan  
**Disclaimer:** Wicked, the characters, concept, etc, aren't mine.  
**Word count:** 3,918  
**Summary:** As Elphaba vanishes into the Underground life of the Emerald City, Glinda's years of hell are just beginning.  
**Notes:** Bookverse. Set directly after Glinda and Elphaba's parting.

-

Glinda sat frozen in place, tears streaming down her face and muscles protesting abuse. Eyes glazed over, she stared, unseeing, at the passenger opposite, and barely registered that such behaviour was making the person uncomfortable. It didn't matter. She didn't care.

Just what was going on? How had her safe, perfect little life been reduced to this? How had she learned so much only to have it destroyed in a few short moments, a brush of lips against her own, and a retreating figure swathed from head to toe in black vanishing into a rush of emerald?

Oh Unnamed God. Oh Lurline, Ozma, whatever gods or goddesses existed. What was happening? She was just a pampered little girl from the Pertha Hills. Born to money and not to thinking, not to this. Not to such disasters. She was supposed to be able to fix anything with a smile and a laugh. Living was supposed to be effortless to her.

Glinda dragged air into her lungs and heard a choking sob escape from somewhere. She knew she had made the sound, but it didn't register as she finally broke from her awkward posture and sagged against the back of the carriage. All eyes were on her. Something she would have liked just short of two years ago. These eyes weren't admiring her. Some were pitying, some condemning. Others declaring that such behaviour wasn't appropriate between two women and that the green one couldn't have been the blonde's sister.

She was being sent back to Shiz. _Sent_ back. She hadn't chosen, she hadn't asked to go. When had Elphaba decided she was sending her alone and they weren't returning, by choice, together? She had no way of knowing. Glinda contemplated demanding to be let from the carriage. _Galinda_ would never have stood for being abandoned in a carriage and sent on her way. But then, Galinda wouldn't have contemplated chasing after Elphaba either. Glinda was too afraid. She would never find Elphaba, not knowing her way round the Emerald City, and certainly because Elphaba didn't want to be found. She must have prepared for every eventuality and Glinda following must have been one of them.

She didn't have the courage to jump from the carriage. At least Glinda was honest with herself. She didn't like uncertainties. No money and no connections would bring nothing of worth in the Emerald City. She didn't want to live each day wondering where her next meal would come from. Leaving the carriage meant leaving Shiz and leaving her family, even if it meant possibly getting Elphaba back. Elphaba was risking nothing. There was nothing she desperately wanted or needed that she would go without. She was gaining her freedom. Glinda would lose everything.

Elphaba knew this. That was why she was sending her back. Giving her no choice. Making the decision for her, like Glinda would have wanted. She could never have made the choice on her own. Money and social status gave her her freedom, but she, just like the rest of her class, still needed to be told what to do by somebody. How to behave, how to be seen…how to live.

Glinda just wasn't strong enough. She hadn't been brought up to know where she could pull strength from.

Not one of her companions offered comfort. When her eyes flickered back into focus, they all looked away from her. She supposed she would have done the same, if she had seen a dishevelled blonde in a dirty dress, gulping back tears and grieving the loss of such an extraordinary looking girl.

She didn't straighten or rearrange her skirts, stop her tears or try to draw her hair back into some orderly arrangement. She would see none of these people again, and so revelled in her grief, sniffing and sobbing for the whole journey, until she fell into an exhausted sleep and almost missed her stop for the train.

-

Wasn't she such a sight trying to creep back to Shiz as inconspicuously as she could, looking completely haggard, dishevelled, and clutching the small parcel she had managed to pack (also full of dirty skirts and blouses) before leaving? Students in town who knew her (only by sight, not by association) stopped to stare as she traipsed slowly through, eyes on the ground. Glinda tried to ignore them. The stares she could, the whispers were harder to shut out. On reaching the gates of Crage Hall, she paused, wondering if she should take that final step. She could beg for passage to Frottica, say her family would pay, and cry and cry when she got home until her parents let her leave Shiz. That would be childish, she thought, however appealing the idea seemed. Yet if she just-

"Miss Glinda of the Arduennas!"

She jumped and nearly dropped her parcel. Taking a step back in fright, the heel of her right shoe snapped and sent her crashing to the floor. The whispers of a couple of nearby students became laughter as she yanked her skirts down to protect her modesty.

"Miss Glinda!"

Glinda cringed. There was no escaping now. The voice of the Headmistress reached her again; there was no way she could ignore the summons a second time. No time to run, no time to pretend she never returned. At least her current state and her washed out features would work in her favour. She would recite what Elphaba had told her to say; that she had been kidnapped and taken against her will. She would not say that she had been sent back against her will.

She snapped the heel of the shoe off completely so she could clamber back to her feet, Madame Morrible now before her, yet offering no assistance. She clutched her parcel to her chest, "Madame Headmistress," she bobbed her head.

"Where have you been and to what do you owe the state in which you now appear?" Morrible questioned, in clipped tones, torn between outrage and curiosity.

Glinda blinked. "…I…she…" her vision blurred as tears threatened to fall again.

"_She?_"

"But she…and I…"

Morrible removed the parcel from Glinda's grasp and wrapped a condescending arm around her shoulders, guiding her through the open gates and towards the main entrance, "Now, now, Miss Glinda. You are an educated lady and such scenes will not do. What would your parents think?"

Glinda thought that she cared not for what her parents would think, nor what anyone else thought, the Headmistress included.

"I'll have some tea prepared and then you must tell me every detail of your disappearance. I must also know where Miss Elphaba finds herself at this moment."

She sniffed. "M-May I change first?"

"No dear, I believe a cup of tea is in order, then we shall go from there."

The large, quoxwood, door banged shut behind them with a echoing clarity and finality that Glinda wasn't sure she liked.

-

Glinda sat awkwardly on the very edge of a wooden chair, parcel by her feet, hands in her lap. She hadn't been permitted to sit on one of the more expensive sofas, for fear of dirtying them, a choice she would have made herself anyway. She stared down at her hands as Morrible busied herself with the tea tray, taking far longer than she should have to place it down on the table.

"Now." the Headmistress took one of the cups and motioned for Glinda to take the other. It seemed that the arm around the shoulder had been more than enough contact between her and the mussed up child-woman before her. "Start from the beginning. Miss Nessarose was most concerned that neither yourself or her sister could be found."

Glinda did not reach for the tea. "She…she, that is…Miss Elphaba…she wanted to see the Emerald City…she wouldn't go alone and she wouldn't wait…she…she threatened that if I didn't go with her, she would…say that she had been writing my essays all along and that I didn't deserve to be here…" She wrung her hands in her lap and finally reached for the ridiculously small cup to stop herself shaking.

"The Emerald City?"

"Yes, Madame."

"Continue."

"I said…I said I wouldn't go with her, but she bound my hands and forced me along. She took my purse to make sure I had no means of getting anywhere without her… She said she needed a person of my status, with connections, to make enquiries in the City…"

"Yet you are here and she is…?" Morrible pressed.

"I don't know." Glinda replied. "She…Miss Elphaba didn't know the way, she made us travel for days and days and she wouldn't let me go back. I escaped yesterday morning when she was arguing with a carriage master."

The Headmistress frowned and sipped her tea. "If you were taken by force, why, my dear Miss Glinda, do you have several changes of clothes with you?"

She stared, knowing she had been caught out. Glinda lowered her gaze and sipped at her own tea, before setting it down on the table and reaching for her parcel. "She made sure we were prepared, you see. She made me pack and lug our things from place to place." She was suddenly glad that one of Elphaba's shapeless dresses had worked its way in with her belongings, which she dragged out, "She treated me no better than a servant…" Glinda faked a second breakdown and threw the dress on the floor.

"So…she is in the Emerald City?" Morrible asked, ignoring the tears.

She paused. "…I…I don't know, perhaps…she found her way without me…maybe she finally managed to make it to the City… Not many would offer her passage, you see, with her…affliction. I can see I had my uses…"

"If she is in the City, then she is almost certainly lost by now…"

"Oh yes, Miss Elphaba has a terrible sense of direction, as I told you…" Glinda agreed.

"No, I mean that the City is very large and there is a multitude of places that she might hide away in." The Headmistress narrowed her eyes, studying her pupil.

"Madame, I am sure a person such as Miss Elphaba would not have any great skill at hiding. Her colour, for one, makes her stand out a great deal in a crowd," the girl murmured, in a reassuring tone, just about managing to hide her embarrassed blush.

"She has committed a great crime, you understand? Taking you against your will and treating you in such a manner? She must be apprehended."

"Oh yes…it was such an ordeal…so very terrible… I trusted her so very much, you see, and now I understand she was only using me for my family name…" Glinda hung her head and wrung her hands some more.

Madame Morrible sighed, in no mood to cater to the distress of a girl who thought she was society itself and actually only had relatively good blood on one side of her lineage. She had to know where the green Thropp daughter had vanished to, and exactly why. It was too suspicious that she had chosen such a time to disappear. What with the death of the old minder and the little discussion she herself had had with the three roommates. There was no way to tell how each of the young women had, and would, react to not only the suggestions planted, but also the binding spell. She had, so far, seen no adverse affect on Nessarose. She had yet to witness Elphaba and Glinda's behaviour, only their excursion spoke volumes. So did the fact that only one had returned. Circumstances aside, Morrible was glad that she had another of the girls back under power. One renegade she could deal with. Two would have been much more difficult. She could wait. She would see exactly what Elphaba was up to, in time.

Which was why it was much easier to let Glinda think she believed every word of her story and had no doubts whatsoever. With one gone, there was a greater chance of the others taking flight. Weak as she was, Morrible didn't put an escape attempt past Glinda of the Arduennas. She had returned once…there was no guarantee she would do so again.

"If you don't mind…Madame Head, I would very much like to go and change my clothes…I have been in this same dress for a good two days or more…" Glinda snatched up the bundle of clothes tumbling from her parcel out onto the floor, including Elphaba's dress.

"Yes…of course," Morrible mumbled, a little absently, with a wave of her hand.

Glinda jumped up from the chair and tried to flee.

"You will be in classes tomorrow morning?"

She halted by the door. "…Yes, Madame Morrible," she promised.

"Very well."

The door banged shut behind Glinda as she ran all the way back to her room, ignoring the startled cries and questions of Nessarose and Nanny as she entered, and simply locked herself in the bathroom without another word.

-

She was thankful that, due to her bathing at an unusual time of the day, there was enough hot water to fill the small tub in the bathroom. Glinda forced herself to relax and sank down in the water, now that Nanny had finally stopped banging her fists on the door and demanding answers, and that Nessa had ceased to scream bloody murder.

Her dress lay in a heap on the floor, next to her just as ruined shoes and stockings. Glinda remembered a time when her main concern would have been getting the mud - or whatever stains she had inflicted upon the material - out of such a beautiful day-dress, but she just couldn't bring herself to care. She had peered at the heap for a while, over the rim of the bath, but all she saw was a bundle of material and shoes that certainly hadn't been suitable for the journey she had undertaken. The dress had cost a fair amount, that much she knew, and now it was reduced to rags. There had been a time when she would have cried over it, back when she hadn't had anything else to cry about.

How could she…? How could she!?

How could Elphaba leave her to deal with everything on her own!? With what she knew and what she wasn't supposed to know, with Morrible and Nessa and dear devoted Nanny losing one of her beloved girls without even a letter of explanation? She wasn't a talker. She was perfectly content to be parked somewhere to look pretty! She couldn't do it! She couldn't! She would be caught in a lie, panic as to what to do, pull the whole world down around her! Glinda sat up before she inhaled too sharply and accidentally choked on the bathwater and her own anger. What did she have now? Pretty perfect life: gone! Drifting through university without a care, making the best of social connections: gone! Fantasy world where the real troubles of Oz couldn't reach her: gone! Best…friend…gone…

Did she think it was brave? Did Elphaba think she was being brave and noble and oh so grown up by running off like that? However adult Elphaba liked to behave, Glinda knew the green girl didn't know the Emerald City any better than she did. Which was not at all. Elphaba had no money, no accommodation, no food, and no friends in the City. What did she think she was going to accomplish in a state like that? A twenty year old girl, a twenty year old _green_ girl alone and with no means to support herself. Really, really, smart for someone who claimed to be learned. More like really, really, stupid. Admirable. …But stupid.

Glinda knew anger was clouding her judgement, but still. Maybe she was bitter. Just a little bit bitter that Elphaba hadn't trusted her to stay with her. Perhaps it was being aware that her friend didn't have that much faith in her…and was right not to…that stung.

She forced heavy limbs to co-operate as she repeatedly shampooed her hair in an attempt to feel more human. She felt anything but human at that moment. Like a shadow, a ghost. Maybe the real Glinda was waiting somewhere to wake up again one day. Maybe she had run off with Elphaba and all that was left was a shell.

Stupid, stupid girl…how could she just abandon her, wake her up inside and leave her? It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. It wasn't her fault she was so easily broken…was it? Why did Elphaba have to _believe_ in something so much? Couldn't she just be content to muddle through life like the rest of them? Why did she have to think she was better than-

Glinda froze. She sounded positively like Nessarose.

Elphaba had the right to choose. She never had the right to anything else. She could be first class in her belief in her versions of right and wrong because she had been made to be so second class all her life.

How could she…? How? How in the hell could she start her on the path to being a better person and not stick around to see it through? How could she leave her with all this…in such a…mess?

Glinda stepped from the bath and towelled herself dry, leaving her hair a tangled mess for once. It quite suited how she felt, she decided. She reached for the dressing gown she always left hung on the bathroom door and wrapped it round herself, tying the cord. She had to be angry. She had to be as bitter and twisted as Nessa or she was never going to survive. If she wasn't angry, she would surely cry. Now Elphaba was gone, she had to be the strong one. She didn't have a choice. Just like Elphaba didn't for all those years.

Glinda took a deep breath and unlocked the bathroom door, ready to face the music.

-

"What do you mean she's gone?" Nessarose repeated, for what must have been the fifth time. She was glaring at the heap of a blonde who sat hunched over on her bed, knees drawn to her chest, eyes downcast. "What do you mean?" she continued, determined to get a better answer than the one she had received.

"Nessie-" Nanny began.

"No!" Nessa shouted. "She left with Elphaba and returns alone – she must have answers."

"…She's gone," Glinda said, again, voice low and controlled. "She sent me back here. She stayed… She didn't like what she heard and she stayed…"

"You chose to go-"

"She kidnapped me," she said.

"She no more kidnapped you than she did me!" Nessarose exclaimed.

"Miss Glinda has a mind of her own these days," Nanny agreed. "Our Elphie would not have led you astray had you not wanted it."

"Elphaba wouldn't just abandon me…" Nessa uttered, expression tinged with a sudden fear.

She wanted to snap that she wasn't the only one to have been abandoned. The fact that she had been graced with a goodbye somehow made it all the more painful. She was suddenly jealous of all the years Nanny and Nessarose had spent with Elphaba. Glinda had seen all too often the way Nessa spoke to her sister. She had taken her for granted. Well, no more.

"Well, she has…" Glinda answered, hoarsely.

"Glinda!"

"Now that's not nice," Nanny stepped in.

She got up from the bed. "She has!" she repeated, voice growing stronger. "She has chosen her path and she has _abandoned_ us," she stressed. Glinda glared at Nessa. "You, me, Nanny, everyone. Elphaba chose. She didn't do it to spite you, Nessa, but she is gone. She didn't want to return and she doesn't want to be found."

"How could she!? She's always been so selfish-"

"Selfish!?" Now Glinda did shout. "How can you say that when she has taken care of you all her life? She loves you. Maybe this is her one selfish act, doing something for herself. I can't explain it, and I don't know why she did it, but I'll defend her right to have done it!"

"She abandoned you too!" Nessa shot back.

"I know!" she screamed, shaking. Glinda clamped a hand over her mouth, taken aback by the force her of reaction. "I know…" her voice hitched and her tears fell. Genuine anger just wasn't her talent. Mock surprise, fake disgust, theatrical displeasure she could pull off. Not anger she really, truly, felt. Not when it was so closely mixed with such despair. She exhaled slowly, trying to regain her composure. "But Elphaba's gone. It's just us now. She's said her farewells. If anyone can take care of themselves, it's her."

Nanny wiped the tears from Nessarose's eyes and took her by the shoulders. "Elphie will make herself known to you again at a time of her choosing. Not before. You know that as well as any of us. Until then, you have Nanny…and," she glanced across at the blonde, "…you have Glinda."

Glinda sank back down onto her bed, determined not to look at the empty one across from her. When she looked back, she would look upon this moment as one that defined the others, that led to what was to come. If she had rejected Nessa, if she had asked to sleep in the dorms…if she had refused there and then at the first hint of becoming a surrogate sister…perhaps everything would have been easier. Maybe things would have been different. Less difficult. She could have conveniently forgotten everything she had learned from Elphaba and become the young lady of society she had been. Oh, it would have been easy…blissfully so…she could have returned to being a marginally intelligent young woman more interested in what an 'education' could do for her rather than knowing what that education was. She could have been Galinda again. It would have been so, so easy…

But that didn't make it right.

Glinda nodded. "I'm not going anywhere, Nessa," she said softly.

And wasn't that just the truth? Elphaba was beginning a whole new stage of her life, standing up for whatever it was she believed in (Glinda still wasn't sure she quite understood any of it) and she was stuck at Shiz. She had nowhere to go but home. Back to a home full of the correct way to speak and what was acceptable conversation and how she should walk in certain types of heel. Nothing was going to change for her. She had lost the one person that had made her life remotely interesting, if only because she was forced to think and find other topics to speak about beyond the drawbacks of satin dresses and who was now officially betrothed to who. Glinda was terrified. It would certainly be easier to flee back to her old behaviour patterns…but what if she did? What if she became that girl again and forgot what it was like to actually have meaning in her life?

_'Hold out, if you can.'_

Elphaba knew. Elphaba knew just how difficult it was going to be. Elphaba had her grand war to fight…and Glinda had her own, much more personal…much more frightening…battle to wage against all she knew and all she had ever wanted.

The silence was shattered by a wail of a sob from Nessarose.

Glinda stood up and crossed the room to embrace her, sealing her fate there and then.


	2. Chapter 2

She checked the heels of her shoes one after the other, then tugged a little on the bow at the back of her white dress, making sure it was as perfect as it possibly could be. Glinda examined her hair in the mirror, deciding on a different place for the jewelled pin with the hanging crystal blossoms in the back of her hair. Securing it back in place, she took a step back and nodded, satisfied with her appearance.

Glinda wasn't exactly sure why she had dressed so extravagantly for what was, essentially, only a meal. The grand dinner was to celebrate having only six months of university left. She had, at first, thought that holding a sort of graduation dinner before they had even graduated was a little strange, but she had to admit it made sense. With students known to leave university as soon as their exams had been completed, some on the same morning or afternoon, there was no guarantee that all the girls of Crage Hall would be together at the end of term to hold such an event.

She had spent nearly five months in a sort of daze, a confused silence and obedience. After Nessa had cried herself to sleep the night Glinda had returned to Shiz, the young blonde had allowed Nanny to verbally tear her apart. She had felt none of it. It had barely touched her. Even Nanny had to admit, in the end, that there was nothing to be done. Elphaba had always been headstrong. Unfortunately, the end had been rather dragged out, as it resulted in Nanny going to the Emerald City herself to search for her charge, leaving Glinda to take care of Nessarose. On finding nothing, and on agreeing that Glinda could have done nothing more than she did, there was not a word spoken about the incident between the two women any longer.

Glinda supposed she was trying to reclaim herself. She looked almost like she had in her days as Galinda. Not a hair out of place. Beautiful dress, perfect make-up, wonderful shoes Dazzling smile that finally met her eyes if she forced it. She hadn't lost it. She could still achieve the affect she wanted and charm a crowd if she put her mind to it. She intended to, at any rate.

Nessarose was dressed just as elegantly, as if she too were going to the formal dinner. As it was, she had over another year of university to complete. Though she knew the importance of the event, she had protested hotly about Glinda leaving her for the evening. One wouldn't have expected a full-blown temper tantrum from a woman of her age, but Nessa had proved she was more than capable. Anyone who heard would have thought there was something more dire occurring than a woman bemoaning the fact that she was not to have the company she wanted for an evening.

Her outfit completed, Glinda turned from the mirror to gaze steadily at Nessa, who had even exasperated Nanny. The old ward had headed to the refectory to get some tea to calm her nerves, hoping Nessa would eventually exhaust herself, like a toddler. Nessarose sat in a high-backed wooden chair beside the fire, staring sullenly into the flames.

"Nessa?" Glinda called, softly.

"I don't want you to go," Nessa stated, not making eye contact.

"I have to. It's a celebration and I have to go. All the girls have to, you know that," Glinda reminded her, keeping her voice as gentle as she could.

"I don't want you to go." The dark eyed girl's head snapped up and she glared at her roommate. "If you cared about me, then you wouldn't go."

"It isn't a matter of caring for you, Nessa, I adore you, you know that…"

"Then you shouldn't go."

"Nessa-"

"You shouldn't go!" Nessarose shouted.

Glinda approached her slowly and knelt at her feet. "Nessa…dear Nessa, I-"

"You shouldn't go. Elphaba wouldn't go. Elphaba wouldn't just leave me here all night."

Fingers inside white gloves curled a little as Glinda twitched, trying to keep her temper in check. She took a deep breath. "Elphaba isn't here…"

"I know. You left her! You left her in that city and you came back here without a care in the world! You took my sister from me and you don't care. The Unnamed God punishes sinners, Glinda, and he will punish-"

"Nessa!" she snapped. "Elphaba chose, you know she did, she left me too…"

"I want Elphaba. You hear me? I want Elphaba! I don't want you, I want her." Nessarose kicked out at her, catching her hip. "I want Elphaba!" She kicked again in her fury.

Glinda heard the crack in the air before she felt it, as she slapped a hysterical Nessa across the face. She regretted it immediately, hands flying to her own face in shock.

Nessa stared at her, suddenly silent, wide-eyed.

Oh, Lurline. That was it. She had gone too far. Glinda shuffled back towards the girl and rested her hands on knees covered by the skirts of a black silk dress. "Oh, Nessa…"

The younger woman didn't so much as twitch.

"Nessa, I'm sorry…I didn't mean…I shouldn't have-" She sighed and looked down. "…Elphaba's gone…and I will be gone for just this one evening…"

"…But you're leaving…you're leaving and I'll be here all alone, just Nanny and I…" Nessa whispered.

"That's how it has to be… I can't stay here forever. You know that."

"Elphaba isn't coming back…is she?"

Glinda swallowed and shook her head. "No. No, she isn't," she replied. She shook herself and looked determinedly up into Nessarose's eyes. "No more, Nessa. No more. This is enough. It's enough, understand? For both of us."

"What do you mean?" Nessa questioned.

"No more looking over our shoulders. No more waiting at the gates during free lessons. No expecting her to be back in her bed in the morning. It's enough. It ends now. We have to…we have to let her go…"

"But she isn't dead!"

"I know. But she left and we cannot will her back. We can't even beg her to come back. We don't know where she is and we don't know what she's doing. Elphaba chose. She trusted us to survive without her and she chose. Wishing for her to return isn't surviving, it's hoping. We can't live on hope for the rest of our lives, Nessa, we can't. I can't. …And I don't think you can either…" Glinda said softly.

"You want us to give up," Nessa stated.

"I want us to do what Elphaba's doing and get on with our lives."

There was nothing else she could say. She knew it sounded heartless, but now she was one of the only people looking out for Nessa's wellbeing. It wouldn't do to let the girl spend the rest of her life pining for her sister. There was nothing she could do to make it better, but, in the long run, she could cope with Nessa being bitter; she couldn't cope with her being dreadfully unhappy. Shortly, there would be nothing she could do for her anyway. Glinda suspected she wouldn't see a great deal of Nessa once they had both left Shiz.

She had become a replacement. She understood how it had happened, and, in some small way, she knew how Elphaba had always felt. She found herself able to deny Nessa very little, and she wasn't bound by blood. She felt she was bound by duty, and she knew Nessa knew very well which buttons to press to get her to respond out of guilt. There were times when she was aware it seemed like she was wrapped round her little finger, but what else could she do?

Nessa had no true friends. It was a harsh, but unavoidable, truth. Glinda herself couldn't claim to have that many friends anymore, but that was mostly down to her recent, distant, behaviour. Nessa didn't try to make friends. She had always had Elphaba fighting her corner, her constant companion. Perhaps because Elphaba had never had friends, the result was her sister lacking friendships too. Nessa didn't know how to make friends. She tended to obviously disapprove of others' behaviour or make cryptic religious remarks whilst in a group, which only served to warn people off. Perhaps she thought she was making intelligent conversation, but, whatever it was, Nessa just wasn't a social creature.

Glinda had been Elphaba's roommate by accident, her friend by eventual choice, and therefore Nessa's friend by default. She had never stopped to consider whether what she had with Nessa truly was friendship or merely circumstance. When Elphaba had left them it hadn't seemed to matter. There was a lot of Nessarose that she found trying, Glinda had to admit, but then, she was sure, there was probably just as much about Glinda herself that annoyed the younger of the Thropp sisters. In the end, she was her only friend, through choice or circumstance, and that seemed to leave everything down to her.

She had to support Nessa, she had to try and get her through university before she gave up and was content to spend the rest of her life lost in prayer. She might not be able to get Nessa to make friends, but she couldn't let her become a total recluse.

Glinda stood up as Nanny entered the room. She stepped away from Nessa and blushed slightly, hoping the red flush from where her hand had met Nessa's cheek wouldn't be noticed.

"Is my Nessie feeling a little more sensible now?" Nanny asked.

Nessarose nodded. "Do not patronise me, Nanny, I am not a child. I know I have behaved badly."

Glinda checked her dress for smudges, particularly where the shiny toe of Nessa's shoe had met her hip. Thankfully, there was no dirt visible against the delicate lace trim of her sash. She stretched a little and retrieved her purse from her bed. "I should go, they're expecting me."

"Have fun, little miss," Nanny smiled slightly.

She returned and smile and headed for the door. Noticing how her hand shook when she reached for the handle, she almost hesitated. No. She had to go. For her sake and for Nessa's. She couldn't be worn down.

"I want you to stay," Nessa uttered.

"I know," Glinda answered quietly, as she closed the door behind her.

-

Four months later and it was exam season at Shiz. Glinda's least favourite time of year. She felt a little more confident now that she found she could see actual results from her sorcery efforts, but she had never been a book person and she found the endless reading the hardest part. Still, she slaved over the books. It was her final year and she was going to become the first (qualified) sorceress of Frottica, even if she had to work herself into the ground.

She always told herself to ignore the part of her that very quietly suggested that Elphaba might come seeking her help for whatever quest she was on if she was a decent sorceress.

Glinda found herself studying with Nessa and Miss Milla most often. Nessa because she needed to study too, and needed someone to turn the page for her when Nanny wasn't around, and Miss Milla because…well…her former friend hadn't fallen on the best of times. Though Milla had never been the richest girl in Crage Hall, her family had been known to own vast amounts of land and she had been recognised as relatively high society. Unfortunately, Milla's father had made a bad investment and lost a great deal of money, taking his family's status with it. Though Milla still had her dresses and most of her finery, she had no more and would be getting no more in the near future. This, to Pfannee and Shenshen, was unacceptable. Milla was cast out, at least when people were watching. Glinda saw the girl's efforts to rekindle their friendship for exactly what it was; trying to make a favourable alliance (now Glinda could not be more of a social liability to her), but she decided not to be spiteful. She had suffered, and Milla was suffering, in her own way. As long as it didn't have any drastically negative effects on her (or Nessa), Glinda could live with being 'friends' with Miss Milla.

At least the two girls had one topic to have honest conversations about: Boq. His liking for Glinda having faded, and with Milla's fall from grace, he seemed to have transferred his affections from one to the other. Same old Boq. Same old efforts to attract attention. It often made them laugh, even if Glinda did feel a little guilty.

Guilt became unease late one afternoon, as the two girls were sat on opposite ends of Glinda's bed, a river of open books between them.

"I'll be married off as soon as I return home," Milla said, not looking up from one of her books.

Glinda did look up, and blinked, a little confused at the out of place statement. "I suppose most of us girls…will be…" she hesitantly replied.

Her companion sighed and shook her head, clearly distressed. "I had good marriage prospects when we had money… I had…I had a sure future of a good house, a wealthy husband…someone to take care of me, make sure I had the best of everything…" She looked up at Glinda, despair in her eyes. "I had a chance of marrying above my station…just a little above, that's all it would have taken…I wouldn't have had to want for anything…"

"Your family…aren't entirely…broke?" Glinda tried to reassure her.

"We have the house and the possessions within it…we lost our holdings…the money… Beyond that… Mother has some savings of her own, but now Father has had to get a job, a proper job…and we already have debts…"

"But if someone of wealthy status will marry you, then you can restore-"

"Nobody will want to marry me now! Nobody of worth. Not knowing they will likely have to support my family too and I will bring nothing of value to the marriage!" Milla exclaimed.

Glinda considered trying to reassure her with promises that someone would love her and want her for her, not for what she had or stood for. However, she knew that meant as little to Milla as it would to someone with intentions of marrying her. Milla was a commodity. And so, Glinda knew, was she. She had been content to marry for all the wrong reasons before…but now…

"Perhaps your father will earn a reasonable salary and his loss will not be considered a mistake on his part…" she suggested.

"I need your help." Milla stopped just short of actually pleading.

"My help? I've no money of my own, no connections I can request favours of. All my connections are my mother's, of the Arduennas'…" she flustered.

"No, I mean… I need you to help me with another matter."

Glinda frowned, "With what?"

"Boq."

"Boq?"

"If I cannot rid myself of his affection then I don't know what will become of me. His family might not be wealthy, but they own land…and…they are a good sort, so I hear… When you have nothing, I fear that an offer of marriage from a person such as that would be a decent prospect for your daughter…" Milla tried to explain.

"You think Boq will ask for your hand in marriage? As soon as you are free from Shiz?" Glinda pressed.

"I think unless he is dissuaded that he is in love with me, it is a likely possibility…"

"Surely not so soon… And surely he wouldn't try such a thing! He knows you are above-"

"Was," Milla reminded her, "Was above." She reached to grab Glinda's hand across the bed. "Please. Please, I need you to tell me how to make him stop loving me, like he stopped loving you. What did you do? Were you terrible to him, did you make him angry? What did you do?"

Glinda stared. "M-Miss Milla…"

"Miss Glinda, please. I beg of you. I cannot let him think of marrying me." Milla clung to her hand, eyes brimming with tears that, for once, were not theatrical.

Glinda almost shivered. She could see herself in Milla, her own fate and her own fears. She knew she would be expected to marry when she got home and she knew there was little she could do about it. If she had needed her mind, her education might have been an asset, but now…now she knew it was frustratingly useless. She would be used to make an alliance that was advantageous to the Arduennas. Her mother had been allowed to marry below her station. The chance of Glinda herself being allowed to do so was slim. True love would bring her nothing of worth. It would bring her misery and shame from her family.

She exhaled slowly, trying to appear composed. "I always told Boq there was nothing between us, nothing but the chance of friendship, of acquaintance…but I was never so harsh to him that he abandoned thoughts of loving me. I never actively drove him away. He fell out of love with me because I am not the girl I was…"

"But-"

"No, Miss Milla, I am not. I have the same dresses and the same smile, but there is something in me that is gone, something that he was in love with and that he can no longer see. I am not certain what it was, or what it is. I promise you I am not aware of exactly why he no longer has such great affection for me as he once did."

"There must be something!" Milla cried. "Something you said to him. Something you told him."

"I admit I was a little rude to him on occasion, but he was mightily presumptuous."

"But if he thought there was the possibility of love and marriage with you, then he won't think twice about it being a certainty with me."

"If you don't love him…" Glinda began.

"I don't! I don't love him!"

"Then all I can suggest is that you inform him in no uncertain terms as quickly as possible."

"I have done…I already have done, many times… He won't take no for an answer…" Milla's shoulders slumped and she retreated back to her end of the bed.

Glinda felt rather sick. There was nothing she could do. It wasn't as if she could speak to Boq herself and somehow warn him away from Milla to help her. If she said anything remotely negative it would only ruin her status even more. She hadn't been able to actively dissuade Boq from loving her, despite her best, if restrained efforts. She had kissed him in the end because she couldn't convince herself to reject him entirely. She had liked the attention…and she had wanted to know what it was like to be kissed by somebody who thought they loved her.

She knew Milla would have to obey if her parents accepted a marriage proposal on her behalf. That was how it was done in their world. You didn't ask the young lady, you asked her parents. Unfortunately, if their circumstances didn't change, any alliance, even to someone of Boq's standing, with only farmlands, would seem favourable.

She couldn't help Milla. Just like she couldn't help Nessa.

Glinda slid down from the bed and closed the short distance between herself and the distraught girl. Whether Milla was trying to be friends with her to improve her standing or not, Glinda couldn't let her cry like she was and not do a thing about it. Her distress was genuine, and, despite being aware that she should know better than to trust a girl like Milla, she found herself genuinely liking her.

"Don't let them marry me off, Glinda…please…please, Glinda, don't let them…"

Glinda rocked the petite figure in her arms, eyes tightly closed. "…I'm sorry, Milla…I'm so sorry…"

-

The practical exams were less stressful than Glinda had anticipated. She levitated what she had to levitate, transformed what she had to transform, and tried to look every bit the well trained sorceress she intended to be. It was the written exams she found more difficult. She often found herself talking in circles, convincing herself she agreed with one point, then arguing the side of the other. She didn't really like to think about the elements of her chosen craft that she was pulling apart as she wrote her final papers. It was much easier to point, chant, and hope, rather than explain why she should or should not do it, and what it proved about the world.

Glinda found Nessarose was becoming more and more bad tempered as the end of term drew near. Every student became stressed around the time of exams, but her behaviour had nothing whatsoever to do with the papers she was dictating. The girl seemed to be getting more spiteful and angry by the day. Glinda bore it all, with very few harsh words, knowing it was her 'place' to do so. She knew that she had made the effort to take Elphaba's place in her sister's life, to support and love her, and in doing so she therefore had to live with everything that came with it, Nessa's mood swings, selfish tendencies and all.

She knew Nessarose was the most angry when she was afraid, and, unfortunately, faced with her immediate future of another year or so at Shiz, alone, she was afraid a great deal of the time. She resented Glinda for having to leave her, even if the situation was out of her control. There was nothing to be done but hope that Nessa eventually grew out of such behaviour, when she realised she was a young woman with her whole life ahead of her, even if she would never be truly independent.

As her final term drew to an end, Glinda found herself spending more time with her old friends, Crope and Fiyero, Pfannee and Shenshen, trying to drag Nessarose with her, in the hopes that the others would feel compelled to look after her as she did, to at least write to her when they all left Shiz. Her efforts were mostly futile, though Fiyero often showed great kindness to the youngest of the group, and Shenshen once offered Nessa a holiday with her the following year, though Glinda knew the society girl was counting on it being an offer not accepted. She smiled when Boq was sometimes a little overprotective of Nessie - she assumed out of the same duty to Elphaba that she felt - and she felt less guilty for laughing whenever her roommate did.

On the day before Glinda was due to return home, Nanny drew her aside as she was preparing her luggage, Nessa asleep in the next room, exhausted after three hours of dictation.

"You've done all you can for our Nessie," Nanny said, noting the grim look on the blonde's features.

"I know," Glinda murmured. She paused and ceased trying to keep a skirt from creasing in one of her cases, "…It just doesn't feel like it."

"Elphaba was the same."

"Elphaba didn't have to see Nessa like this."

Nanny smiled wryly. "Oh yes, she did. What do you think happened when Elphie left for this place? Not even Nanny could console Nessie then."

"No," Glinda looked up, shaking her head, "it's not the same. Nessa knew she would see Elphaba again back then. Now what will she have when we're both gone? She doesn't make the effort to make friends and she knows it. I love her, Elphaba loved her, and she knows it, she uses it as an excuse. Now she's angry and I can't help her."

Nanny sighed. "Nobody can help her unless she admits fault with herself. To admit fault with herself would be admitting that her precious Unnamed God was wrong in making her how he did, and she'll never do such a thing."

Glinda slammed her case shut. "Well, she should!" she hissed.

"Now who's angry?"

She sank down on her bed, head in her hands. "…I hate her…I hate her, Nanny, and I adore her…"

"Ironic that she should think herself such an angel when she's such a little devil." Nanny smiled again. "But Nanny loves her, like you do, and there's nothing to be done about that."

"Take care of her…won't you?" Glinda looked up.

"Always and as ever."

The next day, Glinda bade farewell to Crage Hall, and to Nessa, who insisted on being furious with her. She hid her tears as she turned away and pretended not to notice the sob she heard from the younger girl as she clambered into the carriage. That, she decided, was best for the both of them.


	3. Chapter 3

She had been home for six months when her mother decided that it was time for her to be presented to the matriarch of the Arduennas as a woman in her own right. The last time Glinda remembered seeing her Great Aunt was when she was a little girl. She could remember little beyond the fact that she had been wearing a frilly pink dress and matching shoes that she had liked very much. She had had to sit quietly and behave as well as she could as the rest of the women around her talked for many hours on end, and, when they were finished, she had been given a pink sugar mouse to match her outfit. She was sure she still had the mouse in a box somewhere. Even as a child, Glinda had decided that the mouse was too pretty to eat.

There had been less of a fuss about 'Galinda' becoming Glinda than she had anticipated, especially from her mother. She had expected uproar and for the household to keep calling her 'Galinda' for months. The changes in her having been noted, Glinda had noticed that everyone from the serving maids to her parents had been keeping a close eye on her. She had mostly been left to her own devices, to sort out rendezvous with her old friends to get reacquainted, choosing a new wardrobe now that many of her old dresses were a little out of date for the new, grown-up, Glinda, and she was surprised that she was permitted to keep reading her old sorcery textbooks.

She knew this patience with her was not to last. It couldn't. She was her mother's daughter and she would soon be put to use as an asset to her family. Six months to readjust was more than she had expected, if she was honest.

"Very nice, Glinda dear."

Glinda was jolted from her musings to find herself before the full-length mirror in her room, one of her maids just about finished with the intricate lacing on the corset of her dress. Corsets were somewhat old fashioned, even now, but her Great Aunt would most likely be wearing one and would expect her nieces to do the same. Glinda glanced back at her mother in the mirror – she didn't look comfortable at all.

The maid bobbed her head as she finished and quickly fled the room, leaving mother and daughter alone.

Glinda tilted her head. "Will I do?" she asked.

Her mother smiled. "Yes, very well." She stepped forward and laid a hand on her shoulder, studying them both in the mirror. "Glinda suits you, you know," she said. "It suits the woman you will become. I never liked the old Gillikinese pronunciation, but your Grandmother…and your Father, come to think of it, they did love 'Galinda' so…"

"I'm glad you approve," Glinda murmured.

"You're my baby girl, Glinda, my only daughter. I do try to make you happy… There are just…" Her mother stepped away, hiding her eyes. "There are some things that are out of even my control…" she finished, softly.

"What do you-"

"Come." Her mother held out her hand. "The carriage is waiting for us."

Unable to pursue her line of questioning, Glinda checked her hair once more in the mirror and headed after her mother.

-

"Your cousin, she is getting married in three month's time. You will be her maid of honour and go to live with her until the wedding, to aid her with the preparations and learn the processes so that you can be useful in putting together your own wedding."

Glinda was suddenly alert and paying attention once more. She had been standing for a good hour and had finally managed to tune out her Great Aunt's ramblings, and the pain in her feet from the awful heels she was wearing. The shoes were stunning, but she swore they had to be the most uncomfortable pair she had ever owned. As the youngest at the gathering, and the reason for it, she had been made to stand before the matriarch whilst she was told, in detail, what was expected of her, now that she was a woman.

"M-My wedding?" Glinda uttered, confused.

"Yes! Your wedding. Sweet Oz, my girl, did you think we were going to let you become an old spinster?"

"I am sorry, my lady, I have only just returned from university and I did not believe that-"

"Oh yes," her Great Aunt responded, "University." She didn't sound impressed. "Well, you displayed the talent and we decided amongst us it might be good for you. Few of us have had the education you have been given, Ga-" she paused, and frowned, remembering, "Glinda."

"Of course, I will do whatever you believe to be best." Glinda lowered her head, hoping obedience would somehow give her greater freedom. If she was seen to be a biddable girl, then perhaps she would be trusted and have a little control over her own affairs.

"Yes. You will."

She bobbed her head, keeping her eyes on the floor.

"University may have filled your head with ideas about the world, but you have a duty and you will fulfil it, as have we all." The matriarch paused again, in thought. "Your mother tells me you shared a room with the granddaughters of the Eminent Thropp?"

"Yes, Miss Nessarose and Miss Elphaba," Glinda replied. She supposed she should have placed Elphaba first, but, with Nessa now destined to be Eminent Thropp, the younger of the girls was now the most important in her family's eyes. Not that Elphaba, after all she had done, would ever have been taken seriously by them.

"The Thropp Third Descending will, of course, be invited to your wedding. It is an alliance we would be unwise to let slip, even if what I have heard of the family is…not as impressive as the title implies. Nevertheless, one of the girls will rule Munchkinland one day. Which daughter is it?"

"Miss Nessarose," Glinda said, without a doubt in her mind. Elphaba wasn't coming back to reclaim her title. "If I may ask – who am I to marry?"

"That is undecided, at present. There has been some interest in you, since your return from university. Some suitors will visit your cousin's house and we will decide which is the most suitable for you to form an alliance with," her Great Aunt stated.

"My cousin…is she here?" she asked, feeling rather stupid for not recognising her own blood. In all honesty, she didn't recognise half the women present. Glinda suddenly felt very small; very young and wanted to run back to her mother and hide.

"No, she is currently overseeing her wedding preparations at her mother's home. The girl is Lillia, you must remember her? You played together as children."

Glinda nodded, though she didn't remember. She had had a great many friends as a child, some from her own family, others not. All she could remember were dresses and bows and ringlets. Clearly a full childhood, she thought, somewhat bitterly.

"You will leave your mother's house tomorrow."

And that, Glinda supposed, would be that.

-

"A baronet!" Lillia cried, practically squealing, blue eyes wide. "That's much better than the one you saw yesterday." She tilted her head, frowning a little. "Actually, that's much better than my Ahly, think of the money! Care to swap?"

Glinda could only stare. She was under no illusion that her cousin was madly in love with her fiancé, but she tried to believe she had some genuine affection for him. "I-"

"Of course, I'm joking! But the money, Glinda…you'll want for nothing. Of course, a baronet will have more than Ahly, but he has his other uses. He's very influential in the Emerald City, you know? I suspect we'll spend most of our time there. You'll have to come and stay."

"That would be nice," Glinda said, trying to find some enthusiasm. She had found her cousin to be very much like the rest of the Arduennas, focused solely on what she could get out of life for as little as possible. She intended to live a life of luxury and be kept by her husband…which, Glinda knew, was what was expected of her too. She supposed it wouldn't be so bad. She had always wanted to have her own house and her own assets, to be in charge like her mother was.

Lillia was a whirl of brown curls and blue silk as she dashed about the room, fluffing the cushions and adjusting the artwork on the walls. "Oh, Glinda, he'll love you. Everything has to be perfect. Think of it – married to a baronet!"

Her cousin seemed to be more excited about _her_ wedding than her own, Glinda thought.

A knock at the door to their parlour made Lillia jump. "Oh, that'll be the maid announcing him. Look sharp, Glinda, you have to make a good impression. Just think of the houses and the dresses, the jewels and…and…everything."

Lillia wouldn't have survived five minutes in university.

Glinda stood and adjusted the skirts of her dress. She hadn't failed to notice that her Aunt had had her dressed that morning in virgin white, in a tight, subtly low cut dress. It showed just enough of everything to leave any man who saw her wanting to see more of what was underneath the expensive grown.

The door opened to reveal a maid and Glinda's Aunt. She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Lillia dear, do calm down."

Lillia stopped and took a deep breath, closing her eyes and steadying herself on her heels. "Yes, mother." She opened her eyes and took several slow steps across the room to seat herself across from Glinda, who was seated on the best furniture in the room, in the best light, in a dress the elder of the two girls suddenly noticed was far superior to her own. Had she been deliberately dressed down that morning? Oh well, no matter, that was clearly a testament to her own beauty, to ensure she didn't draw attention away from Glinda.

For all she knew about the process, Glinda sighed a little in disappointment that she wasn't to be left alone with her suitor. That way, perhaps she could have presented herself as an unintelligent and uninteresting girl. Between them, her Aunt and Lillia would notice any attempts to sell herself short.

"Please show our guest in," her Aunt bade the serving girl.

"Yes, Ma'am."

A few moments later and a man old enough to be Glinda's father entered the room. She had to hold her breath for a moment to stop her panic from showing. At least a few of the men she had previously seen had been closer to her own age, men about to come in to money, to inherit and take their fathers' places. One had been younger than her, a frightened child unsure what to do with a woman such as Glinda. She had no doubt that this man, this…figure…would be certain exactly what to do with her and when he wanted to do it.

"Sir Chuffrey, my ladies," the maid introduced. She quickly left the room, closing the door behind her.

As expected, Chuffrey first made his duty to Glinda, taking her hand and dropping a kiss to her knuckles. "You must be the young lady I've heard so much about," he greeted.

She bobbed her head, trying to get her breathing under control. Hopefully the two women studying her reaction would take her behaviour for shock and awe, not fear. "It is an honour to meet you, Sir."

He dressed well, Glinda mused. He was well groomed. He was polite. He was, at present, quite trim. She had to focus on the positive. He had money. He was sure of himself. He could provide her with everything she could ever want, she had been assured. If she were to marry him, she would be a lady of higher society than she was now. She would spend her evenings in ballrooms and fancy restaurants and the best houses, belonging to the best people of Oz. She would be noticed. Looked up to. Loved. If by all the wrong people.

The meeting was brief and seemed to pass quickly. She spent most of it in an oxygen deprived haze. She tried to answer questions politely and with a degree of intelligence. She made the effort to seem interested in him. She did not let the young girl who had sobbed her way back from the Emerald City show. She shoved her down and walked all over her, silencing her.

When Chuffrey left, her Aunt gave her an approving nod and Lillia flung herself into Glinda's arms, babbling about all the wonderful things to come and didn't he look interested, he did look interested didn't he? Oh, another wedding to plan, it would be so much fun!

Glinda wished she wasn't so frightened. She wished she wasn't so numb, so that she might run. Run away and hide somewhere and find herself huddled against a green body for warmth.

She just smiled. Wasn't it all going to be so wonderful?

-

It was a year before she was permitted to marry and all the arrangements were made. Glinda had seen more suitors after Chuffrey, some of which she would have chosen herself, but the head of the family had decided that Chuffrey would make their lives, and hers, the easiest. By default, some of her fame as his wife would seep through to them and improve the chances of the younger girls of the Arduennas, still children, of marrying well.

She thought it all seemed quite pointless. Chuffrey had money and (some) influence, but what did he actually do? He had stocks and bonds and land, but what purpose did he serve? What purpose would she serve?

Well. She would be rich. She would be a lady. She would be noticed. She had been content for that to be her life once and she would be content with it again. Giving orders and flouncing around again might be fun. Maybe she _could_ forget all she had learned.

Glinda was stitching some of the ribbons for her hair for the big day one afternoon when her mother came to visit her. She was careful to set aside the two lengths of white and the darker navy strand between them, that wasn't supposed to be there, out of sight so her mother wouldn't ask questions.

"I'm sorry," her mother began. She seemed nervous.

"For what?" Glinda asked. She didn't get up from where she sat.

"That you can't marry for love, like I did."

She frowned, "I-"

"I don't want you thinking this is how I would have it done." Her mother sat down beside her. "If I could let you choose, I would, I promise you that, my girl. But it can't be done. It's my fault, in a way, and I wish it were different…I just…I hope you're happy. Even if you aren't at first, I hope you're happy…"

"Mother…" Glinda uttered, shocked.

"It _is_ my fault," she continued. "They let me marry your Father because they knew I would make a scene, make fools of them, if they didn't allow it. And I would have. I would have run off with him and disgraced them. You came along and I thought I was so blessed to have the family I wanted… But… But then there were no more children, no more daughters and they wanted more children from me…and I couldn't give them to the family. They see it as my punishment, as their mistake for letting me marry your Father. They wouldn't take any chances with you, my Glinda, my sweet little girl, and I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…" She gathered her stunned daughter into her arms and held her tightly, rocking her as if she were a baby once more. "I'm sorry," she murmured.

"…Mama." Glinda burst into tears.

"I'm so sorry…I'm sorry…"

-

She had dismissed the maid and her dressers and was weaving the ribbon she had prepared specially into her hair when she heard the knock at the door to the room she was getting ready for her wedding in. Glinda reasoned they could wait a few moments as she finished her task, carefully tucking one dark edge into her set, curled and pinned hair. One of Elphaba's long abandoned ribbons from her things at Shiz lay stitched between two pristine white strands of her own. The ribbon was all at once something old, new, borrowed and blue. Glinda finished, bringing her veil down over her face, and raised her voice. "Come in," she called.

The door opened to reveal Nessarose, Nanny just out of sight. The door was closed behind her as Nessa stepped inside and leant back against it to keep her balance. "Glinda," she greeted, smiling softly.

"Oh, Nessie!" Glinda would have swept her into an embrace, were she not afraid of creasing her dress and toppling her old friend over, "You came." She carefully guided Nessa to a chair, one hand at her back to steady her.

"Of course. Your family were most insistent that I be present."

"I'm so glad you're here," she breathed.

"You look beautiful," Nessa said, quite possibly the only compliment she had ever paid her.

Aside from the silver shoes that seemed to be permanently fixed on her feet, Nessa was dressed entirely in back, as if for a funeral. Glinda thought she was strangely correct in her choice of outfit, for wasn't today a funeral of sorts as well as a wedding? The death of Glinda the girl, would-be sorceress of Frottica, and the birth of Lady Glinda, trophy wife.

The blonde bobbed her head, trying to accept the compliment, hoping Nessarose couldn't see her tears beneath her veil. It wouldn't do for the bride to cry on her wedding day. Certainly not to cry tears of sadness or regret. She suddenly wished she had mastered the spell allowing a person to vanish into thin air for as long as they could maintain the power to keep the magic working. Then she could run, even if she had no idea where to, just run and not have to marry a man who was twice her age and only interested in her ability to make him look good and make polite conversation with the right people.

Glinda didn't like to think about the other details that he was interested in. She would deal with that when she had to, and only when she had to. She had seen the way Chuffrey had eyed her appreciatively during their short meetings, and she was no longer so naïve as to be unable to discern between an admiring glance and a lecherous leer.

She was only twenty-three. Lurline, she hadn't even begun to live! She was barely out of school and now she was essentially being thrown from one prison to another, except to this newer, more exclusive prison, she was bound to for life. Glinda found herself wanting to go out and explore the world, take in the scenery, hell, slum it, even if she had always found lower-class life so distasteful.

She wanted to find Elphaba and give her a piece of her mind. It would never had got this far if she were around. Elphaba would have laughed at her and mocked her and told her she was stupid for bowing to familial obligations, would have forced her to take the situation into her own hands. She would have made the whole situation seem so ridiculous. She would have made Glinda feel so small. It would have riled her up and made her fight back.

Well, Elphaba wasn't there. She only had Nessa now, and Nessarose was hardly going to tell her to back out of her wedding. For all she knew, Nessa might believe it was the right course of action. Maybe she couldn't see past the romantic illusion of love and marriage. Nessa always wanted someone to care for her and love her…perhaps, in a way, Glinda was getting all the crippled girl ever wanted. She was doing what was expected of her.

It wasn't fair. If she had known that pretty dresses and money and being a lady of society came at such a high cost, she would have trained herself to hate them. Even as she trembled in fear beneath the heavy layers of her wedding dress, Glinda was trying to comfort herself with the thought of the money she would have, the unlimited spending power, the houses, the servants, everything she wanted. Everything she loved. Except love itself.

Maybe she could learn to love Chuffrey. It could be possible if she put her mind to it. He could be a nice man. She had spent barely two hours in his presence – how did she expect herself to love him already? Women had been getting married since the dawn of time; not every one of them had loved the man they spent the rest of their lives with at the very beginning.

She would try. She had to. For the sake of the Arduennas, if not for herself.

"Now, now, everybody's waiting for the bride, so Nanny has to retrieve her Nessie quickly." Nanny barged into the room, unannounced, as ever, though Glinda couldn't begrudge her the interruption. The old woman paused once more to study the young girl she had come to know so well. Nanny smiled. "I'd say money buys beauty, but we all know you'd look stunning in a paper sack, dearie. Your husband-to-be will appreciate your family's attention to detail, I think."

Glinda nodded, a mere twitch of her head, eyes a little wild.

Nanny sighed. "Don't take on so. It's all part of being a woman and some of us even enjoy it, you know?"

"Nanny! Please!" Nessa exclaimed.

"Well, we can't all be saintly," her ward shot back. She gently helped Nessarose to her feet and guided her to the door.

"Nanny?" Glinda called.

Nanny paused and glanced over her shoulder. "Hmm?"

"Thank you," the young bride said. "For taking care of me in Shiz. I owe you a great debt."

"Think nothing of it, Glinda," she replied, addressing her by name for once. "Nanny was glad to have you as one of her girls for a while." She smiled. "Come along, Nessie."

Nessa didn't look back as the door swung shut behind them. Glinda was glad of it, though she wondered if it was subtle punishment for her ignoring her pleas to stay when she left Shiz. If Nessa had looked back, Glinda wasn't sure she could have stopped herself from running after her, trying to seek some kind of comfort, comfort she knew she wouldn't get. Their roles had suddenly changed, drastically, in those few, short, minutes, and Glinda fought for control, wondering why she futilely believed Nessa would be strong for her when it had always been the reverse.

She made another minute, unnecessary, adjustment to her dress, brushing imaginary dirt from the silk.

The dress was beautiful.

Glinda felt unclean.

That evening, when the ceremony was over and she found herself alone with Chuffrey, she tried to smile as she closed the bedroom door behind her.

And when he lay her down on the bed, she tried not to shiver.


	4. Chapter 4

Three months into her marriage and Glinda believed she had spent a total of three weeks in her husband's presence. Not that this particularly bothered her, but she had hoped for it to be more than a few months before the novelty of being a newlywed wore off. She was aware that Chuffrey hadn't accumulated his wealth by sitting around on his backside all day, but her pride was rather hurt that she hadn't been enough to hold his attention for more than a few days at a time. She was young, beautiful, and some even thought she was talented. She had a degree in sorcery for crying out loud! She had been enough to engage the interest of several young men at Shiz – so why didn't her rather aged (to her) husband find her interesting?

Glinda unexpectedly found herself with the company of her husband in their new marital home during the afternoon she had set aside to prepare herself for a rather important society event that evening. She emerged from the bathroom clad in a silk dressing gown to find him perched on the edge of one of the many useless pieces of furniture she had, at one point, believed to be essential.

"…Sir Chuffrey," she greeted, trying to hide her shock.

Her maid bobbed her an apologetic curtsey. "Excuse me, Ma'am, but you did say you didn't wish to be disturbed and the Master's return was rather unex-"

"Thank you," Glinda interrupted. "If you'll excuse us for a moment."

The maid fled without providing a response.

The blonde lady of the house sat at her dresser, back to her husband, as if he weren't there. Glinda set about combing pretend tangles from her already brushed through wet locks.

"It seems I've been neglecting you, my dear," Chuffrey said.

"Everything is in order," Glinda answered. "Your staff are content and the house continues to function in your absence."

"And yet you are displeased."

"I am neither pleased nor displeased," she said curtly. "It is good to see you," she lied. "Though I do wish you had sent word of your return, then perhaps I might have been able to greet you in a more presentable fashion."

Chuffrey stood and moved to stand behind her, placing rough hands on her shoulders. "I thought we could attend this evening's festivities together. I won't have anyone believing you to be a lonely widow so early in our marriage."

"Thank you for your concern."

"Besides, it is a shame that our marriage bed has had only one occupant for the duration of its life. I confess to missing you, Glinda, when I am absent from your side."

That, Glinda thought, was about as close to a confession of love as she would ever get. Not that she particularly desired his affection, but it was nice to know that she hadn't entirely failed as a woman from time to time. Even if she didn't always enjoy his attentions, she still wished to know that he wanted her physically even if Chuffrey didn't ever intend to spend every hour of every day in her presence.

"The house is not the same without you," Glinda replied.

Perhaps he would never realise that she never slept in their marital bed when he was on his many trips. Though the room she had chosen as her own was smaller, at least it was hers and not 'theirs'. She had even taken to hiding there on occasion, when the gazes of the overly observant staff became too much for her.

Chuffrey squeezed her shoulders and headed for the door. "I shall leave you to prepare for this evening."

"Thank you."

Glinda stared at herself in the mirror. She had everything she ever wanted. She even had things she didn't need and hadn't known she wanted. She had a huge house, a wealthy husband, servants who catered to her every need day and night…and she was completely and utterly alone.

Her family had abandoned her to a life of solitary acceptance.

Her mother had known. Her mother had known and she still hadn't had the courage to refuse handing over her daughter to that sort of life.

Maybe there had to be a period of adjustment. Perhaps that was it. Things would improve. She would have company. Women of her own rank would cease to be awed by her and welcome her into their social circles. She would have friends again. Silly little women to talk about shoes and silks with.

Nobody to make her think.

Well, if this was what thinking had led her to, she would certainly have to stop. Everything around her would have contented Galinda the girl. It would have to content Glinda the woman. More dresses, more jewels. That was the answer. More distractions.

Glinda stood, opened the door, and called for her maid to return with several subordinates in tow.

For now, she would do what she was good at. Looking amazing.

She began to peruse her selection of ball gowns.

-

"Sir and Lady Chuffrey."

All eyes were on her. Not even on Chuffrey. Her. Glinda, formerly of the Arduennas. Lady Glinda, who resided in a house bigger than any of theirs, whose dress cost more than their fine outfits and adornments. She was prettier, brighter, more refined. She had been to university. She knew things. She shone.

…None of these facts could banish the taunting voice in the back of her mind that kept on declaring that she was a trophy wife to a middle-aged man who had suddenly thought that marriage might be an interesting idea.

Lady Chuffrey. Lady who?

Glinda engaged in polite conversation with whoever sought her attention. She laughed delicately at ridiculous jokes and made the effort to blush and gracefully accept the compliments given her.

She danced nearly every dance of the night with a different man who was not her husband. She caught the bitter gazes of their wives and smiled inside. These men wanted her and made it obvious. These men made her feel powerful. Not like Chuffrey, who was content to observe his young wife being paraded around by other men. Only at the end of the night did he finally reclaim her and make a point of showing that she was his, that he had married her and this beautiful girl could be in his bed whenever he wanted.

"Good evening, Lady Chuffrey," they bade her goodnight.

From that night on, she made sure she was addressed only as 'Lady Glinda' and not 'Lady Chuffrey'.

-

There weren't enough shops in the Emerald City to keep her entertained. Two years of living in a house where her every command was obeyed meant she had managed to get silently ordering around her staff with a simple change in expression down to a fine art, and it was the same for the many shop assistants in the boutiques and stores of the Emerald City. As soon as Glinda entered a shop there were both men and women falling over themselves to assist her.

People ten and twenty years older than herself desperately anxious to please her. A mere girl calling herself a lady. It was almost embarrassing. For them, at least.

Glinda was rather grateful that Chuffrey hadn't accompanied her on this particular trip. She had gone a little overboard on the spending, even by her standards. Her husband never denied her anything (sometimes she wondered if it was just to keep her quiet and manageable) but he would have had every right to call on her on the over the top dresses she had purchased that she knew she would likely never wear. Let alone the three tiaras and matching pendants.

She supposed she would have to give the poor struggling staff behind her carrying all her needlessly purchased goods a bonus or something. Glinda didn't give a damn what they said about her behind her back, as long as she could keep them obedient. Besides, she had been born into money before marrying into it. Most of them, she suspected, had been born into slavery.

Elphaba would have ripped her apart if she had ever dared voice that sort of comment in her presence. Elphaba would have stopped her buying that third tiara. Hell, probably the first. Damnit, it didn't matter what Elphaba would have thought or done. Where was she when it mattered? Gone. Dust. Nothing.

In the Emerald City, somewhere. Glinda would never admit that she still hoped to find her on one of her many (many) trips to the City.

She was walking with her head held high, trying to ignore the state of the backstreets of the City that she had believed would be a short-cut back to her carriage, concentrating on keeping her heels from the muddy puddles, when a figure only just taller than her clipped her shoulder and nearly sent her sprawling.

"I do beg your pardon," a rather effeminate male voice rang out as he stopped to right them both.

"It would do you good to watch where you're going," was her sharp retort.

"…Glinda?"

She looked up. "Crope?"

A slight smile appeared on his sallow features. "Glinda of the Arduennas."

Glinda drew herself up. "Lady Glinda Chuffrey now," she corrected. "I suspect you've heard and only wish to tease me as an old friend would." She spoke for the benefit of the staff behind her, determined to have no tales of her engaging a strange man in conversation. How different Crope looked! And where was the ever-present Tibbet?

"Of course, my Lady," Crope decided that the sparkling Glinda before him might be as unappreciative of teasing as the old Galinda had been.

Glinda's desire for company she could trust (and easily overpower) overruled her desire to stay snugly within her social circle. "Oh, Crope, I am sorry. Had I known it was you…" She reached a gloved hand up to touch his shoulder. "Come and see me in my rooms this evening, get the details from Floss here." She gestured to her maid. "It would be so good to catch up!" She shot him one of her winning smiles, squeezed his shoulder and continued on her way.

She made sure not to look back, certain that someone with better things to do would not look hopefully over their shoulder.

-

She met Crope again that evening and spent most of the rest of her trip in his presence. Glinda, of course, took charge and made sure they had the best of everything, though she was rather surprised to find that Crope could pay his own way without her assistance. What he did lack was her ability to attract attention effortlessly and manipulate those around them to ensure they always what they wanted. He was rather shy and retiring really, and at only twenty-four! Glinda found the changes in him, from rowdy boy to quiet man, quite shocking. But then, hadn't she gone from quiet almost-thinker to loud lady-wife in the past couple of years? Was it money or character that did that? She knew what she wanted and how to get it. She had everything she needed to get everything she ever wanted, no waiting.

…Perhaps not quite everything.

Her time spent with Crope, dragging him to the very best parlours and shows in town, taking him on shopping outings with her, approving his wardrobe and deciding whether or not the few friends he had made were quite suitable for him, resulted in the realisation of something Glinda thought she would never actively desire.

She wanted to be a mother.

Not a mother in the future, not in ten years time. A mother now. Now.

Chuffrey did not want children as far as she knew. He didn't want an heir. Perhaps he couldn't father children. They had never spoken about it and never really spent enough time in the same bed for it to be an issue. She had never feared falling pregnant.

Now she wanted to be. Badly.

Glinda took up sleeping with her husband as a challenge. It had been a task she had neither liked nor particularly disliked (on the rare occasions that she got something out of the experience) before, but now it was something that had to be done. If Chuffrey noticed his wife's sudden change in behaviour regarding the bedroom, he didn't make a point of stating it. He was, it seemed, quite happy to go along with it. After all, it was better to have a willing woman in bed than one who just lay there and waited for it to all be over.

Nothing. For two months, nothing. Three. Nothing. Bleeding still every month, no change in her body, no sudden tiredness, no sickness in the mornings. Nothing. No child. Glinda swore she was sleeping with Chuffrey often enough for him to have fathered a whole army of children by now. Unless he was faking it like she had often resorted to. No. He couldn't be. What would be the point?

Perhaps it was her. Her mother had only been able to have the one child. Maybe she couldn't have any. Why did she really want a child anyway? As a companion? A friend? Just someone to dote on? She could get a dog or a cat like those other women if it was just that. As long as she made sure it was neither a Dog nor a Cat.

She wanted a little Galinda. A little girl like she had been, a baby to clothe in adorable dresses and bows, little curls to set with ribbons, and the patter of those ridiculously tiny pink shoes. Not that she would do the actual dressing or take care of the child herself. Well, perhaps she would. Who knew how motherhood would affect her? It might be fun. It might be worthwhile.

Something worthwhile, something lasting, maybe that was it. Something to prove to the world that Glinda Chuffrey had existed, she had taught, she had passed something on to the well-mannered little girl she was so sure she would have.

…What would she do with a boy? Chuffrey would deal with him, she supposed. Men adored their sons. He would fashion a son after himself, as she would fashion a daughter in her image.

Four months. Nothing.

The game was getting frustrating now. She was doing everything that one needed to do to conceive a child. Chuffrey was still ignorant of her intentions, just happy to have her in his bed almost every night she knew she might conceive. Nothing! For goodness' sake, women had been having children since the dawn of time, what made her so damned different? Why was it so damned difficult for her?

Five months. No baby.

The idea of the dog or the cat was looking all the more appealing.

Six months. No signs. Glinda gave up.

-

A month later, accompanying Chuffrey on another one of his business trips to the city (and to spend some time with dear old naïve Crope) Glinda set eyes on Nessarose again.

Nessa, trapped, like she, in a bond she didn't want to be in. The younger of the Thropp sisters looked the same as ever, more disapproving, if that was possible, and almost…old. Was that what praying non-stop did to a person? Nessa looked severe, dark hair drawn tightly back, bobbing her head whenever her grandfather addressed her. She wore a tasteful dark green, not like the tacky tourist green, and Glinda was sure that even at her table she caught a glimpse of the silver shoes on her feet. Damned shoes. They didn't seem to have aged. Not like Nessa. Not like Glinda.

She didn't alert Nessarose to her presence. She whispered, with Crope, about the girl, about Nanny and the grandfather, but they didn't reintroduce themselves. She couldn't give Nessa a chance to latch onto her again. Besides, Glinda couldn't afford to be seen with such a plain looking girl whilst in the City. Nobody would know she was now the official Thropp Third Descending. That title meant nothing in the Emerald City.

Even if she desperately wanted to embrace Nanny and Nessa again (and some part of her did), she couldn't risk Nanny recounting tales of her strange silent days at Shiz. She wanted people to believe that Lady Glinda had always been Lady Glinda, with her money and her clothes and her connections.

Seeing Fiyero only a day later threw her somewhat.

Was it supposed to be some kind of wake-up call? Nessa, Crope, Fiyero and Nanny come to haunt her, to take her back? Was there a green-skinned girl beckoning to her in the shadows too?

Was the babbling idiot she became during their meeting really her? Was that woman what she had become? She talked no sense and didn't even let either of her companions truly speak. Fiyero, who she was genuinely glad to see, seeing her after so long to see that she had reverted back to the mannerisms and snobbishness of Galinda, that the thinking girl was gone. No wonder he wanted to escape. Fiyero had seemed to have matured (despite being stupid enough to have an affair) and she had struggled to even describe what meeting him again meant to her. He had had every right to want to leave. But she couldn't stop. She had to be happy, smiling, delightful Glinda. Cover her despair at having no children with a crude remark. She had to make sure he understood she was so wonderfully, utterly, completely happy. …That she wasn't just that little bit lonely and considering getting a cat. (She had decided on a cat now. Dogs needed too much attention.)

After all that, Fiyero didn't even know where Elphaba was.

Though it was a tad suspicious that a man who had no connections to the Emerald City was having an affair with someone in said city.

Glinda let him go. That time.

On one of her rare solo Lurlinemas shopping outings a couple of days later, she caught sight of him in a crowd through a shop window. She ordered her bags to be sent to her rooms, but kept a dark navy cloak she had bought and pinned it about herself. Glinda hid beneath the hood and followed Fiyero from the main square at a slow, weaving, pace, as if she might just be someone who had downed one too many pints.

She was almost regretting following him at all, with the state of her shoes and the new cloak, not to mention her aching feet, by the time Fiyero engaged in any interaction with another figure. She kept herself hidden at the top of the side-street, round the corner, and peered round.

The figure was almost as tall as he, thin and covered with a black cloak, wearing clumpy boots like those she remembered her roommate favouring. Glinda believed the figure to be male, until she heard Fiyero utter a name.

"Fae, don't be unreasonable-"

"I'm not being unreasonable – but you will insist on making such a noise when you approach and coming here in broad daylight!"

The voice made her start and her heart race, whilst the hood of the cloaked figure slipped a little to reveal a green nose, as if to confirm her suspicions. Glinda could only stare as Fiyero headed through a tiny door and she heard footsteps on wooden stairs. The other figure remained for a few moments, pausing to glance this way and that, before vanishing through the door too.

Glinda could only stare, numb.

When she finally returned to Chuffrey's suite of rooms, he was the first to notice the blood as it dripped down her legs and stained her dress, pooling on the floor. As the world faded back in around her, she was aware of rhythmic cramps in her lower abdomen and of a sudden pain that stole her breath and took her legs out from under her.

-

The next few days were a blur.

It was her, she thought. It was definitely, officially, her, now. She could blame Chuffrey all she wanted, but she had just demonstrated her inability to carry a child. Her body had expelled the tiny baby like a stranger. So much blood and various teas and medications. The best doctors in the Emerald City were at her bedside for an event she knew many women suffered through alone.

For all the best doctors' efforts, Glinda's temperature rose and spiked a fever two days after it was believed her body had terminated and removed he child she didn't know she had carried. There was more blood, exams she would have found embarrassing had she been coherent, and something that passed for some form of surgery by men who weren't, for all their training, entirely sure what they were doing.

Sometimes Chuffrey was there. Sometimes he wasn't. She found she didn't really care.

Nurses, maids, more doctors came to her bedside. They couldn't have the young Lady Glinda die on them, not on their watch. Not if they wanted to keep their reputations untarnished.

Lurlinemas Eve found a still delusional Glinda's fever finally fading, though those around her swore she was still wasn't out of the woods after so much blood and stress.

As Glinda fought for her life, across the City bloodied green hands beat weakly against wooden doors, both women unaware of their surroundings or their struggle. One carried within her what the other had desperately wanted and lost, whilst the other's body had taken upon itself the course of action that the former could only wish her own had.


	5. Chapter 5

She made the journey to Colwen Grounds with a feeling of dread weighing heavily deep within her heart. She had seen Nessarose only a handful of times since graduation, despite the frequent exchange of letters filled with pleasantries and empty assurances of continuing affection. Whilst the younger of the Thropp girls had been being taught how to rule over a sleepy nation, Glinda had been learning how to live with having everything she had ever wanted; learning to live with eternal, ever-thriving disappointment.

Nessa in power. Nessa as the Eminence.

The idea alone made her shiver. Glinda tried to assure herself that whatever she could dream up – whatever dreadful things she feared – would always be worse than what could actually occur. She had learned the hard way never to underestimate Nessa. She knew the girl – woman – looked harmless enough, almost defenceless if a person barely knew her...but Nessa was dangerous. She had spent too long with only her religious leanings for company and too many years bitter that Elphaba had absconded and not even dreamed of taking her with her.

Well. Glinda was still a touch bitter on that score herself.

She was a little frightened about facing Nessa alone. Chuffrey was attending to business and planned only to be a presence at the official ceremony, not staying for any great duration at Colwen Grounds. She had made some grand joke about girl-talk and 'old friends' and made all the right reassuring noises and gestures. After the disaster that had not only taken the life of her child, but left her incapable of having children, she and Chuffrey had hardly spent any time together as 'husband and wife' and with distance came...theatrics. Many more false smiles and a glassy look in her eyes that suited any occasion and response.

Chuffrey would have been no good at her side anyway. What would he and Nessa have spoken about? Stock portfolios? Politics? Glinda had a head for neither and was rather sure that Nessa herself had little to no interest either. Nessa's interest in politics had only ever reached as far as it needed to keep her settled in her position of heiress and confident enough to bluff her way through conversation, just as Glinda's interest in wine only went so far as to have a well-stocked cellar that she hadn't ordered herself, but pretended to appreciate at social gatherings.

Nessa had been a quiet, yet not biddable girl. Glinda knew that she would no longer be quiet...and feared what an outspoken nature would produce, coupled with the temper constantly simmering under the surface.

-

"Glinda, dear!"

Nessarose seemed genuinely pleased to see her, when Glinda was likely one of the few people at the impending event capable of stealing her limelight. Clad in an elegant black dress that clung in all the right places, accentuating a figure that most women would have killed for, Nessa almost looked beautiful. She was certainly stunning, that was for sure. If it weren't for the intense darkness in her eyes, the delicately arched eyebrow and calculating expression, she would have been beautiful. Armless and all; she appeared deadly, like a dagger aiming to strike.

"Nessie," Glinda breathed, so only her old friend could hear, a little afraid that old-nicknames might be inappropriate for company. She wrapped her arms gently about the slender woman, holding her to her for the briefest of moments.

"How was the journey?"

She grimaced and followed it with a smile. "As comfortable as a coach journey of such duration can be."

"Well, you shall have an hour or so to recuperate and then we really must catch up," Nessa insisted, stepping back against the ever-present support of old Nanny, as if she expected her to be there with absolute certainty. "Would you prefer tea or cold beverages?" she questioned.

"I... Tea will be fine, thank you."

"Good. Well, I'll have your luggage brought up and have you shown to your room."

As she turned to guide Nessa away, Nanny winked and reached to set a gentle hand on Glinda's shoulder. "Nanny has missed her blonde dearling, she has," she said with small smile and fewer teeth than the last time Glinda had set eyes on her.

Glinda halted just before she crossed through the gates to Colwen Grounds. She paused to look up at the old building looming over her, ominous and foreboding. Nessa and Nanny in black, continuing on ahead and the staff in their black and navy livery. It seemed as if a constant funeral was in motion. Nanny and Nessa widows of their positions, trapped within the threatening residence of the Thropp ancestors.

With the Eminent Thropp in his grave days ago and even with Nessa acting the competent lady of the house before she had even taken up her deferred birthright...all was not well at the central command of the deteriorating seat of power that was the Eminence of the East.

-

"Your husband will be joining us for the ceremony?" Nessa enquired. "How is married life?"

Glinda's reply of, "Tolerable," was droll enough to be considered a joke. "And yes, he intends to be here. He shan't be staying, though. He has business to take care of."

"No little ones to attend to?" Nanny asked.

"No," came out quickly and harshly, in a hard voice that Glinda didn't know she possessed. Did she really care that much? She supposed she must. "Well," she tried to tease, "they would just make sticky marks all over the furnishings, wouldn't they?" She knew Nanny could see right through her, maybe as a fellow woman who had no children of her own, maybe because she had known the child Glinda too well. Nessa, however, hadn't seemed to have noticed the pain in her eyes, or laced between her words.

"Children are a lot of mess and effort and then they abandon you when they've had enough of you," Nanny tried to reassure her. "Best off out of it."

A false smile and a sip of tea was all that Glinda could manage to answer with.

"Now, Glinda, you must be at the front with Shell and Nanny during the ceremony. You're practically family, you know," Nessa continued on, oblivious.

"Shell? He'll be here?" Glinda had briefly met the infamous 'Father' Nessa had spoken of, but had yet to run into the brother.

"If he can drag himself away from whatever project he's got into his head this time."

"If he can get home in one piece..." Nanny muttered. "Always coming home battered and bruised...if he only knew what his mother went through to bring him into this world, he'd think twice about risking his skin."

"He knows very well that Mother perished," Nessa shot back, in staunch defence. "Perhaps he feels he must punish himself. Who am I to question my brother? He has not taken the Unnamed God's words to heart and he will not listen to Father or I. We must not begrudge him his little adventures."

If Glinda was surprised by such words, she didn't show it, but for a stiffening of her muscles and a straightening of her back. Why was this boy permitted his adventures, but Elphaba was not?

As Nessa prattled on, with the occasional comment from Nanny, Glinda retreated into her own little world of polite society, as if she were with any other society girl. She sipped at her tea, nibbled on a biscuit or two, and just...smiled.

-

Nessa had insisted that she would make the journey to the old, grand wooden seat herself, without any support. It was only to be crossing a room, she had argued, though she knew that she had rarely crossed any sort of room in her life without knowing there was someone there to catch her if she fell. It was simple, she had declared, mere steps, all the while aware that what almost every person she knew took for granted was the one thing she had never been able to accomplish to what she deemed an 'acceptable' standard; walking alone and unsupported.

She would never accomplish it, Glinda thought. For all her distrust of Nessa, she had no desire to watch her make a fool of herself. Not at a moment when it was imperative that she_didn't_. If she so much as lay sprawled on the floor for even a second, it would be as if she had sent an invitation to be assassinated. All but incapable of defending herself behind closed doors; Nessa did not need to demonstrate this in the public eye. She needed to prove she was strong. Glinda knew that, no matter how mentally capable Nessarose might be, that physical appearance would be considered first. If she showed that she couldn't even cross a room, she was only setting herself up as a target.

It wasn't until the ceremony itself and Glinda, standing between Chuffrey and Shell, the brother she had heard so little about, observed the slow journey and shuffling, stumbling steps of Nessa as she made her way to the head of the room, that she knew what she had to do. Seating herself in the giant chair of her ancestors – making her look impossibly doll-like – Nessa crossed her legs at the ankles, pushing forward and displaying the silver shoes set impossibly snugly on her feet.

Glinda's gaze fell to the shoes and she knew...

For all her faults, Nessa did not deserve to be made an easy target, simply for being born into an old aristocratic family. Because Elphaba had left her to it. Because politics demanded it.

Nessa believed there was a magical quality to those shoes. She was never without them. She believed they symbolised something; granted her some hidden strength.

Glinda would make sure that they did.

-

She could not pretend that she was a talented sorceress. She did not have the best class of degree and hadn't practiced spells and magic to any great extent since Shiz. She had dabbled, of course, when some book or another had caught her eye and she had believed a small incantation or two might be useful. Saving Nessa from herself would involve more than dabbling.

It should have been Elphaba, Glinda seethed. She was alive, she was sure of that, despite having not laid eyes on her for over five years. True, that all she had 'seen' of her had been a green nose and a devoted Fiyero, but then, who else had such green skin and what lower-class woman would are chastise a prince? Only somebody he knew would have had the boldness to speak in such a way to him in such a way. Only Elphaba. Or...what was it he had called her? Fae. It suited her, somehow. Glinda wondered if she was trying to be ironic, naming herself that. Fae for Fairy, Elves and other creatures. What she had been mocked as. Or maybe Fiyero had given her the name, an affectionate joke. How was she to know?

Even as Eminence, Elphaba would have fawned over Nessa. Protected and taken care of her. Glinda couldn't help but suspect that Elphaba would have been her little sister's pawn, even in such a position of power. So, perhaps it was better that Nessa was made to stand alone, with nobody to manipulate.

Except her.

Nessa couldn't touch her now, she reasoned. Any help she offered was of her own free will. Helping the young Eminence would ease her conscience...and ensure that she was never indebted – by means of being the only other subject of Elphaba's adoration - to her again.

It was a sorry, twisted mix. Pity, fear, loathing...love. She did love Nessa on some level. The transferral of affection hadn't been one way. But, whereas Nessa had little idea of who Glinda really was...Glinda knew exactly who Nessa was and what she was about. She had something to prove, some great show of defiance to make. A challenge had been thrown down. Survive without her. Live without her. Make a damned good go of things or perish trying. And most of all, do it because you had never hated – and loved – someone so much in your entire life.

Nessa needed to be able to take care of herself. As it was, she couldn't even get up off the floor without help. She needed to be able to escape if threatened. To run. Even to simply finish an argument, turn and leave abruptly, without waiting for assistance.

Glinda knew a spell to reinforce buildings. One she had learned on the off-chance that one of her favourite architectural features might face devastation and she could be the one to save it. She could suspend things mid-air, if she concentrated. She knew an incantation to make a feather and a brick balance perfectly against each other on the scales. Balance. That was it. She couldn't conjure Nessa any arms...but she could give her the balance to move under her own power. Perhaps.

-

"I need your shoes."

Nessa's eyes narrowed, but her voice was even as she replied, "Why-ever do you need my shoes?"

"So I can help you, Nessie."

"You're not taking them from me."

Already exasperated from the brief exchange, Glinda shook her head and grit her teeth. "I have no intention of taking them from you. I have closets and closets full of my own shoes – better shoes, might I add – in my own homes. I can help you; let me try."

"Help me?" Nessa scoffed, the schoolgirl back now that they were utterly alone in her chamber. "If that magic of yours can help me, bring back my great-grandfather. Force my damnable sister here to take my place."

"You're the Eminence now, you've been groomed for this, you know what you're doing. What claim does she," she didn't dare utter her name, "have to this? This is yours now. She always wanted what you had and now you've something that was hers! Use it. Enough, Nessa."

"I am stuck here, whilst _she's_ off gallivanting somewhere, and I don't know what to do for these people who look to me. The Unnamed God will not protect them if they do not embrace him and I cannot aid heathens who don't wish for my help! They think me to be crazy, Glinda. They think I am a delusional child. I'm not stupid."

"Wherever _she_ is, I'm sure she's probably having just about as much fun as you and I are right now," Glinda answered, voice low. "You need to listen to your people – ignore them for all I care – but if you're seen to listen to them, then you must hope they will listen to you. You need to be able to look them in the eye without Nanny or some servant supporting you...and that I can help you with."

Hope lit in dark eyes. "...You...you're going to stay with me?"

Glinda wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. She had to extinguish that tiny flame. "No," she stated, forcing all guilt and regret from her voice. "But if you'll lend your shoes to me for an hour or so...I think I can make you walk without someone constantly hovering behind you. You can go into meetings alone, without a nursemaid. You can be the Eminence, not little Nessarose all your life."

"My shoes..." Nessa breathed. "You...can't touch them with magic. You can't, I won't permit it."

She was not, and had never been, as skilled as Nanny or Elphaba at gently manipulating Nessa to back down ever so slightly. "I'm leaving in the morning," Glinda stated. "You can trust me – believe that the Unnamed God desires this for you – or you can watch me leave from an upstairs window with Nanny at your back, Nessie dearest." Not graceful, not eloquent...yet the truth.

A haunted look from a terrifyingly alone Nessa and an afternoon of prayer later, she got her hour with the shoes.

-

She wondered, in the weeks and years that followed, whether or not she had done the right thing. Or even if she had had a choice in the matter, really. She had tried to elude Nessa's company for much of her adult life, save for their letters, afraid that whatever Morrible had done to them that day might trigger and cause her to do something she shouldn't.

Perhaps it had. There was a difference between dabbling in household magic and casting a life-altering spell. Wherever Elphaba was, Glinda could only hope that she had escaped the fate of the binding spell. She could, maybe, make her peace with never seeing her again, if she knew she had ultimately gained her freedom.

So, she went back to her houses and her delightful summers and playing the proper little wife. She kicked the servants into touch when she had to, slept with her husband if she got that desperate for companionship, and tried to exhaust the funds that kept accumulating in her lap. She spent some time with a despairing Crope, who blamed himself for Tibbett's decline and eventual death. She tried to be good. She tried to help people, when it suited her.

But, as she had learned from Nessa; once she had helped someone, they didn't need her anymore.

Then the house fell and changed everything. Her 'quiet' life suddenly wasn't so quiet anymore, and she was all at once a sorceress...a witch, they called her...not merely 'Lady Glinda' any longer. That damn spell. The shoes. She should never have touched the shoes. Were it not for that spell... Were it not for Morrible! Elphaba! Poor, demon-Nessa, gone to join her beloved Unnamed God. Yet would he have a witch in his heaven? Had Nessa's devotion been all for nothing...? He had not saved her...had Glinda herself transformed Nessa into a witch with her demonstration of power? Had she made it...appealing? Had she spoiled her chance at heaven? Oh, Nessie...poor, wicked Nessarose...

But now...now that she was gone...

Nessa had done, perhaps, one good thing in her life. She had forced paths to entwine.

Glinda chose her outfit carefully. She knew, of course she knew, what looked good and what didn't. She knew the dress she chose was appalling, but wasn't that the point? To prove what her absence had done? To show what she had left her to become? She couldn't show her 'Lady Glinda', not the real Lady Glinda. She would show her hints of Galinda and of 'Glinda the Good', as they were starting to dub her. She would take one look at that dress...and she would know...exactly what she had been through since being abandoned in that carriage all those years ago...

Colwen Grounds, again, in so many years. She hadn't thought she would see it again so soon.

There she was, still all long limbs and severe features. Still in black.

"Miss Glinda of the Arduennas..."

Nerves made her silly. "Oh, you came, I knew you would."

There she was. She who had destroyed and rebuilt her so many times. Best friend, worst enemy; quite possibly the love of her life.

"Miss Elphaba, the last true Eminent Thropp, no matter what they say!"

** Fin **


End file.
